Alone
by Keen pnet
Summary: Completely revised and reedited as of 12/01/2008. Set in the future, an unlikely and unstable partnership is formed between a human survivor and a disgraced yautja warrior. OC, UST, N/C, Lemon, F/M, Xeno.
1. Introductions

            _Completely revised and reedited as of 12/01/2008, voice your opinions and criticisms at will._

                        _-Cam_

            Elder Del'uan entered the Council Hall and paused at the human at his feet. She looked worn. The mob of angry onlookers tore her dress and messed her hair as they dragged her inside, chaining her to the room's centre. Her face was drawn and paler than its normal dark copper colour. Not that she seemed to care about her appearance or their taunting. Her black eyes were trained on the bodies the guards slid next to her. She felt him near but didn't look up for fear the tears that welled in her eyes would fall. Del'uan pet her head, combing his long curving black nails through her hair with a purr.

                        "Have you reconsidered my offer, Isis?"  he asked. His purring deepened when she nodded.

            She knew Del'uan wanted her. Not as a mate because that would imply she was his equal, but as his whore. A pleasure house for him and him alone.  And at the moment, Isis thought being his whore looked better than her alternative, throwing herself on the mercy of the Council. Atop the dais, the row of silent yautja bore down on her with abhorrence and with reason. Two of its members lay slain before them, the former Lead Elder and his mate.

            Hi'tesh was their clan's most honoured warrior and his mate, Su'hir, had the distinction of bearing the most children ever in the clan's illustrious history. They were perfection in every way and the pride of Shao're so it saddened everyone to hear of their senseless passing. Even more when it was rumoured the human was the one to have slit Su'hir's throat.

            All of Council was not yet convinced Isis had done this thing but they did all agree on one thing, they wanted her gone. All except for Del'uan, who continued to stroke on her like child would a doll. He promised her protection and mind-blowing orgasms but then what? Every child outgrew their toys and when he finally tired of her, he would likely give her to another who would do the same.

                        "I have reconsidered it," she said finally.

                        "And?"

                        "My answer is still the same,"

            Del'uan tossed her hair with a yank and took his place amongst his Council. It was not wise of her to cross the newly appointed Lead Elder. He would show her what a mistake she had made and when it was done, she would be begging him to take her.

                        "Why is she still alive?" One female snapped, her mandibles twitching.

            A heavily whiskered male snorted, "O'al, do you honestly think this tiny creature could have done that to our Su'hir?"

            O'al didn't believe she had but she wanted her dead anyway. She didn't like the sight of humans, especially the human females. They were becoming far more commonplace on yautja ships and with yautja males. But she could at least give the appearance that her own personal vices were not colouring her decision… even if they were.

                        "We should kill her on principle, Vaniv. She knew of A'rah's affair with the male and said nothing." O'al responded.

            Vaniv shook his head, "A'rah kept her as sun'ye, a toy, an amusement. She didn't claim the female as lover or mate, so she couldn't rightly teach her the language. How would she tell us anything?"

            O'al rolled her eyes, "It would figure that would be the only rule that slut would adhere to."

                        "It is my belief that Su'hir's was killed by A'rah. The female's blood was on her body," he said.

                        "But it was on the human as well," O'al countered.

                        "Simple transference could explain that," Vaniv explained. "Undoubtedly she went to be beside her dying provider and it merely rubbed off,"

            O'al could not believe her ears, "Why are you making excuses for her? I thought you wanted to be rid of her just as much as the rest of us."

                        "Does not mean death should be her exit," Vaniv pointed at the human, "She is a warrior of her kind, look at he scars on her shoulders and legs. Even you can see they are from hard meat claws and blood, it's probably why the Arbitrator kept her."

            O'al was unimpressed, "As I heard it, she got those surviving an attack on her ship."

            Vaniv shrugged, "So what does it matter?"

                        "It matters because it was not a trial. It was an act of survival instinct, nothing more." O'al pressed.

                        "But what is a trial if not that?"

            De'luan was growing tired of O'al and Vaniv's bickering but he let it continue. From the corner of his eye he could see Isis grow nervous as the debate grew more heated. This was the moment he waited so patiently for. Calmly he raised the issue that if she were allowed to live, where would she? They simply could not return her because it had been too long and she had seen too much.

                        "Perhaps someone in need of a caregiver or even as a helper, she looks strong enough," Vaniv suggested.

            O'al shook her head, "Why would anyone take her in? She is a stranger who has killed one of our own,"

                        "We do not know she has done this," Another Elder grumbled.

            Vaniv agreed with him, "Exactly, so there is still a chance someone will speak for her,"

                        "Oh really?" O'al turned in her seat, facing the assembled crowd, ready to test his half-brained theory. She shouted to them, "Is there anyone here who will speak for this human?"

            The room was very silent, no one did anything but exchange glances and look around to see who was fool enough to raise their hand.  O'al sat back in her seat, crossing her legs proudly. "Then it's agreed, we kill her."

                        "No it is not!" Vaniv and others said in unison.

            De'luan raised his hand and silenced their bickering. Quietly he offered his solution. "If we are so seemingly split, I will house her until Council can come to a consensus. Does that please you all?"

            Slowly and begrudgingly, the staunchest of opposition agreed. O'al nodded and the rest of the council followed, giving unanimous consent to his proposition. He turned in his seat to face his prize and Isis looked away, unsettled by his heated glare. It was a look of ownership. And he would show her what it meant to be owned, but not just yet. There was still the issue of what to do with the remains of the lovers and their effects but to his surprise and delight Council decided rather quickly on a plan of action.

            The meeting was adjourned and not a moment too soon for the Lead Elder. He stood and approached the kneeling female. Isis narrowed her eyes as he stalked toward her knowing what he had planned. The thought of had obviously made him hard, she could see the bulge in his cloth as he took a wide legged stance in front of her. He readied to take her chains from the guard at her side when a voice called from the hall's end.

                        "I will speak for her,"

            Isis turned sharply, she knew this voice. Raising her head, looking to where the crowd parted a cold dread knotted her stomach. A Spartan mask came into view, a large hulking body of indigo skin and silver ringless locks. This was the male A'rah saved her from, the one that tried to kill her at this story's start. Feeling Del'uan watch her, she half hoped the stranger would try again.

            Del'uan spared the male a dismissive glance. He knew this male too and hated the sight of him. "Council has been adjourned, asegian."

                        "I am no asegian," he said firmly. "You asked who would speak for her and I am telling you I will."

            The Elder grit his teeth. His first instinct was to tear him apart and then tell him no, but he could not afford to show his desire for the female. If it became known lust was his motivation his decision would be overturned and O'al would become the acting Lead Elder. She would take his place in Council and decide what to do with the human.  Isis would certainly be lost to him then.

            De'luan struggled to look dispassionate as he asked him did he know what he was doing, taking the time to spell out the gravity of the situation to dissuade him. "You understand that means you will assume all the duties of her former owner, anything A'rah committed to before dying."

            The stranger's response spoke without hesitation, "I will speak for her."

            The stranger neared Isis and she fought in the chains to move away, straining against them with feet planted to break away. The links didn't even bend. She only succeeded in hurting herself, bruising and cutting her wrists slightly. Del'uan watched as she flopped against the floor in pain. Her spirited reaction inspired a thought,

                        "If she will leave with you willingly, you may have her."

            Del'uan motioned to the guards and they undid the chain threaded through the fixed loop in the floor's centre letting Isis bound to her feet. She was free to move about on her legs but still remained very much in their control, the ends of her restraints wrapped around the guards' waiting fists.

            Del'uan moved behind her. He took her by her shoulders and whispered in her native language that she had a choice to make. "Who will you entrust your life to, me or this poor creature before you?"

The decision was easy, "Neither."  She said quickly.

            Del'uan tightened his grip on her shoulders, making her wince. "That is not an option," he said lowly. "Make your choice and do it wisely."

Isis pulled away from him and looked at the two males. Del'uan stood with his hands behind his back, rocking contentedly on his heels and the stranger with his arms folded. They both gave her a pervasive and unsettling stare but none more so than that of the stranger. The black dispassionate eyes of his mask made it impossible to read his thoughts or intentions, even his movements were cryptic as he moved closer toward her with a confident but wary ease.

            The last time he thought to near her it was with a spear in hand, aimed for her head. The more she ducked and moved, the more enraged he got until he was swiping haphazardly at her without care. She sent him tripping over himself one time too many and when he finally pinned her, she knew he would have torn her limb from limb if it hadn't been for A'rah.

            He terrified her then. It was a time before she knew the word yatuja and what it meant. Then, he was just a strange and vicious creature that perused her with untold rage but now she saw something completely different. Calmer and more reserved. He stood with legs apart, his hand pitifully empty and floating in the space in front of her for her to take.

                        "Make your choice already," De'lun hissed impatiently. "I do not have time to waste."

            The Lead Elder reached for her and Isis moved away, bumping against the stranger. She turned quickly, expecting him to snatch at her to but he stayed motionless, still simply offering his hand. Del'uan growled in his throat as she took it with trembling.

            An uncertain life with the stranger was better than the one she knew waited for her with Del'uan. Sleeping with him had been a mistake, one she did while drunk on some concoction he fed her. He wanted more ever since then but Isis wasn't willing and A'rah had been the one to protect her from his advances. Now that she was gone, the task moved to the male who held her hand. Gingerly he set her hand in the crook of his arm and turned to face Del'uan.

                        "It seems she has made a choice, Elder."

                        "Indeed," the Lead Elder said with forced politeness. "Now get off my ship."

                        "Gladly," he nodded.

            Still attached to his arm, Isis followed the stranger through the halls of Shao're.  When they neared the former Lead Elder's suite she tried to break his grip. She didn't want to go there again. She had trouble not seeing it when she closed her eyes and now he was bringing her back to the setting of her nightmares?

            The stranger looked at his side as she struggled, flexing his arm harder, trapping her hand tighter. Even when she bit at his hand he would not let go. This was the reason he came for her. As the door opened he gripped her by the scruff of her neck and moved her roughly inside. The stranger forced the door shut behind them and slammed her against the wall, telling her with brute strength alone she could not hope to stop him so she might as well not try. She fell still and closed her eyes tightly.

            Isis heard her top rip away and then felt warm hands fumbled over her chest, delving between her breasts. She pushed against his arms, trying to make distance between them but he was too heavy. He leaned in and pressed her flush against the wall, his hand still stroking the in-between of her breasts.  Feeling his hand still over her heart Isis gave up fighting. He had touched her like this once before and she allowed it then too, knowing exactly what he was looking for.

            The stranger growled. The contact, skin to skin, quickened her heart and confirmed what he already knew. Two distinct hearts beat a rhythm against his wide palm. The antiquated translator round his neck sparked to life,

                        "You are still infected," he said quietly.

                        "Does this mean you're going to try and kill me again?"

            Slowly he raised his head and met her darkly searching eyes. Time had not changed them. They still looked on him without fear or apology. And they still shook him somewhere deep. He shook his head no to her question and was surprised when she took his hand and softly commanded,

                        "Let me go then,"

            She pulled his hand away and he stepped back, letting her ease down his front to the ground. When she looked up at him again, he turned away, giving her privacy to mend her tattered top. She watched him as he carefully manoeuvred round the room,

                        "So if you're not going to kill me, why did you want me?"

                        "Information," he said bluntly.

            The destruction around him told him exactly how the murder happened. He could see Hi'tesh on top of A'rah, their senses dulled by their love making, unable to see Su'hir creep upon them. She skewered them together, piercing her mate's back first and forcing it down until it went through A'rah's chest and the bed. Satisfied with the how, he know struggled to understand they why and that is where Isis was needed.

                        "Tell me what you know, human. Why did A'rah die like this?"

            Isis folded her arms, "Why does it concern you?"

            She wasn't so certain of his motivations or connection to her provider. Whatever their relationship was, it was highly strained, she remembered as much when they came to save her from the badblood's ship. Working in tandem proved difficult with the hostility they obviously shared for one another but to his credit, it was immediately shelved when the situation became life threatening and A'rah was attacked. He didn't want to see A'rah hurt but it seemed that was only because he wasn't the one doing the hurting.

            The stranger abandoned studying the room and came to stand beside her,      "You will answer my questions or I will tell the Council you were the one to kill the female Elder."

                        "You can tell that by looking at this mess?" she gulped. He nodded and Isis took a long breath, praying A'rah wouldn't see her words as a betrayal of her confidence but she had no choice.

                        "She fell in love,"

                        "Love?" he repeated sceptically.

            The stranger gripped the seat back in front of him with threatening. It still carried the scent of the arbitrator and her lover. It agitated his senses and overwhelmed his mind until he could not think about nothing but the two of them and their forbidden tryst. They threw away everything for something as fleeting and frivolous as love? Love ruined his life; she should have known it would ruin hers too.

                        "You are mistaken. Tell me what happened in the days leading up to this. Who was she hunting?"

            The stranger saw her blank expression and groaned at the futility of it, she didn't know such things, she was a pet. He wouldn't have bothered asking the human if he could find A'rah's tablet. That and everything else she owned had been dissolved into the Clan. The dishonourable were treated as if they never existed, completely erased from their records and speech and A'rah was deemed as such by Council. Everything that could have told him where she had been in the days before was gone, except the human.

            He attempted to get his answers another way, "Had she travelled lately?"

            Isis shook her head. "We haven't moved in a long time,"

            That made no sense to him. A'rah was an Arbitrator, they journeyed often to fight in the name of honour and justice. "Then what is it that kept her here?"

                        "Him!" Isis said loudly. How many times and in how many ways did she have to repeat it? A'rah was fixed on, attached to and owned by Hi'tesh. "I know its not what you want to hear but it's the truth. They were passionately in love-"

                        "Be silent," he hissed indignantly.

            Love was the very reason they grew apart, he was always the passionate one, not her. The law of her clan ordered her steps and she followed without hesitation. She was the embodiment of calm and cool. Rationale drove A'rah, not her heart.

                        "There was not a passionate bone in her body." He grit angrily.

                        "He discovered it, or grew it in her." She said, "Whatever happened, she loved him and he loved her."

                        "I said do not speak!" he roared.

            Isis clapped a hand over her mouth and fell against the wall as he ripped the seat under his hands in half, hurling the pieces to dent the walls and shatter Hi'tesh's trophy case. He moved towards the bed, his arm jerking as his wrist blades extended, violently bounding from his cuffs. He began with the bed, shredded it to bits before he laid waste to the entire room. The walls were dented, the tables upturned and sliced in half, every piece of fragile object shattered. The violence ended with a deafening roar. Panting and sweating torrents, he climbed from atop an overturned bookcase and exited the suite with eerie calm.

            Isis watched him pass her in silence, careful not to even breathe too deeply for fear of drawing his attention and being next on his 'to-be-destroyed' list. When the door shut behind him, she fell to the floor and let out a defeated whimper.

Isis was light years and decades from home, forcibly ripped from her life when hard meats overwrought her ship, the HMS Whistler. Her brother, her lover and every other member of her crew was killed that day. Isis seemed doomed to follow them, infected with a spawn which amounted to little more than a ticking time bomb in her chest when she was found by a yautja warrior, but even that would prove temporary.

            A'rah and the stranger came for him and she found herself changing hands, like some burdensome object but A'rah never treated her as such. The female was kind and patient with her, surprisingly understanding and accommodating. She was more than a protector to Isis, she was a friend, her closest confidant but she was gone now… and that thing, that insanely violent and mercurial creature was her protector now and the only person she could call ally. Isis looked around the devastated room and wondered if she was better off finding an airlock.


	2. Where Do We Go From Here

            The stranger's broad shoulders brushed the doorway as the guards led him inside. They brought him to the end of the incredibly long Council table and he watched as his childhood friend entered.

            Del'uan had grown considerably since he last saw him, but not mentally. Wildly thrashing his heavy red cloak, Del'uan seated himself at the head of the Council table settling his arms almost reverently on the armrests. He was gloating. Flagrantly flaunting his position and the power that came with it.

            Once upon a time, Del'uan wouldn't dare meet him with such disrespect or speak down to him as he did in the Council hall. Once upon a time Del'uan, like everyone else, was terrified of the older warrior and with reason.  Plainly put, Ali'shir was crazy. The male was the classic definition of unstable and liable to kill them all with very little provocation. The Elders would have dispatched with him long ago had he not been such an excellent student, out performing his classmates and at times, his instructors. He was poised to be where Del'uan stood when he found himself outcast and disgraced.

            No one, including Del'uan knew exactly how far he had fallen until he appeared in the Council hall. He looked like an asegian. Aside from an antiquated combistick and wristbands, he was bare. No trophies, no cloaks, no marks of distinguishing merit. Del'uan was almost tempted to feel sorry for him…_almost._ There was nothing more pathetic than a male who was so broken by a female.

            Del'uan barely glanced in his direction as he signed and corrected the work spread out in front of him. The long obsidian table where he sat was covered in tablets of maps, figures and statistics. A long moment of useless silence filled the cavernous hall before it irritated Ali'shir enough to speak.

                        "How long will you make me wait?" he growled.

                        "As long as necessary." Del'uan said not looking up. "You too would know the responsibilities of running a ship take time if you had not been so careless with your life."

            There was another long moment of silence before the Lead Elder looked up from his work again to glare at the male, "What is it you want?"

            Ali'shir breathed to calm himself knowing Del'uan would test his patience. "Her remains."

            The Elder turned in his seat, crossing his hands over his chest. Amusement coloured his tone, "After all this time, you choose now to come back and care for her? She is dead Ali'shir, there is nothing you can do for her now."

                        "If it pleases you, I'd like to have her all the same."

                        "No," He shook his head and returned to his work. "She is undeserving of an honourable burial and will be burned with the rest of the waste."

                        "Do… _not…_ talk about her like that!" Ali'shir took a mere step forward and the guards around Del'uan snapped to life, moving to circle and protect their leader. From the thick of bodies, he could see the Elder stand with a trill. Ali'shir clenched his teeth to keep from roaring at him,

                        "A'rah is not waste," Ali'shir managed to say calmly.

                        "She could have been so much more if you had not meddled," Del'uan grit, "She could have been with me, alive and safe. My first mate. Her crimes, _her blood_ is on your hands."

                        "She made the decision to leave you all on her own,"

                        "After a 'heart-to-heart' no doubt. You half-breed lot are always so emotional," he snorted. "Her death is proof there is something to being practical and rational."

                        "Then a trade?" Ali'shir suggested, still feigning calm. "A trade for her would be practical."

                        "What could you possibly give?"

            The only thing he had left, "My services."

            Del'uan laughed. "The assist of a washed up has been would not be a fair trade, but…" he paused thoughtfully. "There is something you have I'd be willing to trade her for."

            Ali'shir took a guess and he was right. The Elder wanted the human and oddly, Ali'shir felt a pang of guilt as he considered it. She had already suffered so much but he was at the end of his rope.

"It's rather quite simple," Del'uan continued. "One fine body for another fine body."

                        "I said do _not_ talk about her like that,"

                        "Or what?" he snapped, stepping to the forefront, leaving his guards at his back. "What will you do _half-breed_?"

            Ali'shir suddenly exploded into a sprint, hopping atop the table and cutting guards away from him left and right. Del'uan backed away behind them, moving quickly for his own weapon but Ali'shir was on top of him. His hand shackled his wrist, crushing it, forcing him down to kneel before him.

                        "Despite what you think, I am _still_ no one to fuck with." He hissed. "Give me her body and I will not burn yours in her place."

                        "She is in the compactor," Del'uan said quickly, "Well on her way to be destroyed. I could not find her now without shutting down everything."

            Ali'shir forced his hand back, pinching it painfully. He didn't believe him in the slightest but Delu'an swore it was the truth. "I gave the order just after the meeting," he professed.

            Ali'shir released him and suddenly became aware the guards were attached to his shoulders, pulling him backward. They had been straining so hard when he stepped in the direction they moved towards they all fell back. He stepped over them heading for the door when Del'uan called to him.

                        "I am still willing to trade for the girl, Ali'shir. A new ship, rare supplies, a replacement for that combistick."

            Ali'shir paused, "I don't need any of it."

                        "Then I will shut down the waste incinerators and grind this ship to a halt if you like,"

                        "Then I will go get your human if you like," Ali'shir mocked.

            Del'uan nodded, "We will meet at your ship to make the exchange,"

Ali'shir continued on then, travelling to the lower levels to fetch the female.

                        "Annoyance," Ali'shir grit.

            The human wasn't there. Scenting around the devastated room, Ali'shir was irritated to find she had probably gone right after he did. The ship was large, with many halls and corridors for her to hide; finding her would take some time. But the hope of laying A'rah to rest with honour made him press on and he was rewarded.

            He picked up her scent after meandering aimlessly round the halls for a bit. It was so faint, he thought fatigue and emotion was playing with his mind but then in clicked in his head. Her scent was so weak because she was moving and in a hurry. _But where_? Her tracks showed no real direction she moved from the waste and various machine rooms to the atrium, then back.

            Around the corner, down a stairwell, deeper into the belly of the ship he found himself heading for a set of heavy stone doors. Ali'shir stopped at the top of the steps and looked down the tightly shut entry. The light of orange flames could be seen from underneath the engraved entrance. Sliding his hand over cold stone he recognized the million year old yautja blessing and shook his head. The concept of dishonour must have eluded her simple human mind. The female had wandered down here no doubt, expecting a memory procession in A'rah's honour. _She should have been right_ he frowned as he slowly descended.

            The doors opened silently and he moved toward the roaring fire in its centre. The insides of this grand grey stone hall had seen many fallen warriors and their legacy was etched in each of the stone columns that ran in two lines aside a giant marbleized walk. He stilled as he saw the human on her knees huddled near the room's only source of light, the flame. With her tattered dress spread all round her folded legs he saw her slender fingers busily but gingerly shearing leaves from vibrant blue flowers.

            Seeing her back go rigid Ali'shir quickly slipped behind one of columns before she turned. His breath held, he lay flush against the ivory fixture and stood absolutely still as she studied the room over her shoulder. He wasn't afraid of her in the least. He simply wanted her to continue her bizarre behaviour and knew she would stop if she saw him. She had gone to such efforts to find this place and keep it a secret, he wanted to know why.

            Carrying the flowers in her apron she gave a final cautious look around before placing a shaky hand on the control that sat in the room's centre. The stone groaned as the top stone table sunk down and a bulk draped in cerulean silk was lifted up. Ali'shir felt a lump form his throat as she gingerly peeled away the scarf from the load, bathing A'rahs still and pallid body in the fire's glow.

           Brushing away wayward locks from her face, she nestled the flowers in them, around her arms and in her hands. Her trembling hands lingered on her ashen cheeks. Her face, so peaceful and serene, said she was sleeping rather than dead.

                        "Who knew Hitesh _actually_ would be the death of you," she smiled curling a lock in her finger.

            Isis cursed and shook her head, softly asking for a do over. She had told her those exact words countless times every time she watched her slink away to meet him, but that shouldn't have been a part of her eulogy. She desperately wanted to say something profound but her mind was otherwise preoccupied. A prickling on her neck made her think she wasn't the only one in the room.  Isis was both fearful that any moment she'd be found and desperate to do this right. Checking over her shoulder again, she tried harder but she realised tact prose wasn't her forte. Blunt truth was her gift and all she could manage now.

                        "I don't know if love can help you wherever you are but if it can, then you got it."

            Ali'shir forgave her moment of weakness as she started to cry. He knew the feeling and silently shared in it. Isis said her final goodbye and pressed a kiss against the female's brow. Standing she lay her hand on the control again. The room filled with suffocating heat as the platform bloomed with red fire. Isis and Ali'shir watched silently as the flames licked at A'rah's body. When it died to a blue rippling halo all the power, wisdom and strength they both remembered had disintegrated into nothing but a neat pile of fine ash. Holes in the platform opened up, sucking her remains through. Isis moved to massive glass windows as the ship spit out her ashes, like a tendril of smoke climbing off a cigarette's tip. She watched until she could no longer tell her ashes apart from the dust of space and then leapt off the platform.

            Ali'shir fell back behind the column as Isis whipped around the hall with dizzying speed. Putting everything back in its place she worked her way through the room until nothing but her lingering scent was the only evidence she had been there. She moved so quickly she didn't even see the stray flower fall from her dress but he did. When she ran past him and heard her bare feet slap on the outside steps, he stepped from hiding and captured the discarded bud. He stood with the flower held gingerly in his hand as he walked through the dimly lit hall. His hand touched the platform and he closed his eyes.

            His stubbornness carried him _too _far. The last time he could say he saw A'rah would be here, in the dark and chill of this empty hall. Looking around the empty chamber he thought about what as waste all the human's efforts were. The ceremony, although executed perfectly, was beneath the female she sought to honour. The actual ceremony did nothing to show honour to the fallen, it was the numbers of mourners that attended it, the ones who came to acknowledge that someone great had passed.

            There was no one to witness her ascension, not that they would have come even if he asked. A'rah was shunned and when they were all dead and gone, no one would remember her because her name would not be carved into the columns at his back. Any memory of her would carry a shameful tarnish except the ones he called his own. And the human's.

            Removing his mask, he bent to kiss the stone under his palm. He would honour her the only way he could now and do the only thing she ever asked of him, the one thing that seemed to be her undoing. He would no longer shy from his responsibilities or let his emotions dictate his actions.

            Ali'shir left the ceremonial room and followed the woman's scent again. There was direction to it this time. She headed toward the docks, curiously enough toward his ship. He ran as he heard hear her distressed screams from inside of it. Ali'shir entered to watch her streak around the cockpit, darting behind the hulking machines inside, slipping out of her pursuer's grasp on luck alone.

            Two males tried to corral her into a corner, holding netting in their outstretched arms. They meant to catch her and they were destroying his ship in the process.

            "What is going on?" he roared, ripping the net away from one.

            "They are under my orders," Del'uan said, strolling casually into view. "When you did not return I wondered if you were backing out of our agreement. I came to collect what was mine."

            The human screamed in protest as a guard latched onto her, dragging her to stand before the Lead Elder. She flinched as Del'uan's hand neared-not out of fear but disgust. Ali'shir could see it in her face; it was like looking into a mirror. She couldn't stand him either and she, like him, had trouble hiding her contempt. As Del'uan's hand lightly caressed her face, she bit at him, her teeth missing him just barely.

                        "Nice to see you haven't lost your touch with the females Del'uan," Ali'shir snorted.

            "There is always a period of adjustment, Ali'shir. I will teach her how to behave soon enough," he reached for her again and she tussled in her captor's hand, rolling to the side to hide her face, kicking at him as she did.

            Del'uan gripped her arm and pulled her toward him, not knowing what she was doing with her other hand. She ripped the knife from the guard's belt and opened up the Lead Elder's knuckles with it, exposing the white bones underneath.

            Del'uan roared and balled his hand. His fist reared back to crack her across her face and Isis braced herself for the hit, bowing her shoulders and dropping her head with a wince…but it never came. The stranger moved in front of her, hiding her with his body. Her attacker swiped at her again but the male moved in front of her a second time, making it understood it was no mistake that he separated the two.

            Ali'shir held kept the human fenced between his out stretched arms and growled low in his throat. The male would not take this female without going through him first and Del'uan could understand as much in his ragged growl of warning. The Elder took a step back and waited until the male relaxed his stance before speaking again,

                        "We had an agreement, Ali'shir."

                        "And you have not come through on your end," he replied. "So no deal."

                        "We are still looking. It is only a matter of time." Del'uan maintained, unwittingly telling a lie.

            That made Ali'shir grin, "No deal."

            Thanks to the human, Ali'shir got what he wanted and a little something deliciously unexpected. A proper burial for the fallen arbitrator and a wonderfully public opportunity to break Del'uan's face.

            The Lead Elder was practically foaming over the slight,"When I find A'rah," he growled, "I will personally feed her to the creatures in my zoo."

                        "Get off my ship, Del'uan."

            Ali'shir stared him down behind his expressionless mask, his head following as he brushed past towards the exit. He walked behind him and pressed the hatch closed, sealing his ship afterward.

            Ali'shir turned and met eyes with the human, who hadn't moved a centimetre. Her battered frame was still wedged between the controls, her hand gripped on the stolen knife, poised to strike. Her eyes black as night watched his every movement, wisely gauging him as he neared. There was no way she could hope to stop him from doing as he wished but he admired her for choosing to fight anyway.

            The human's already raised arm visibly tightened like a bow and Ali'shir stopped, understanding that where he stood was as near as she felt comfortable with. Careful to not come across as threatening he raised his hand, touching the translator at his neck.

                        "You may want to find a seat, human. We will go now," Ali'shir turned to sit at the controls at her side.

                        "Where ?" she asked, unconsciously stepping closer.

            Ali'shir forced her back with a snarl, he was not comfortable with being close to her either. "Does it matter?" he hissed.

                        "I suppose not," she nodded after a moment of silence.

            Isis took a seat far behind him and strapped down, locking the metal harness over her shoulders. The stranger was right, it truly did not matter where he decided to take her. She could escape from one place just as well as the next and the second his ship touched solid ground, she planned to do just that.


	3. Where Do We Go From Here II

            Isis burst awake to sit upright, thrashing in the sheets of her pallet. Her hands covered her eyes as if to blot out the images of her mind. The nightmares had been ongoing ever since A'rah died but they reached a new low tonight. Touching her forehead she felt the slick of perspiration; she could taste the salt on her lips. Anxiously she crawled to the edge of the bed and rummaged through her bag, her hand trembling as she loaded the syringe pen and then jabbed it hotly into her thigh.

            She sat in silence, catching her breath as the serum flit through her in a cool rush. She wasn't supposed to sweat and if she did, it spelled trouble. It meant the drugs were wearing off and Buddy, the name both she and A'rah jokingly gave to the hard meat spawn in her chest, was close to waking up and bursting through. In all the confusion of these few days, she had forgotten take it so in an odd way the nightmare was a blessing-although it sure as hell didn't seem like one.

            If it wasn't enough she saw her brother being torn apart by those black creatures, she saw A'rah now, vibrant green blood pouring from her nose and sharpened teeth, her body jumping stiffly as Su'hir stabbed her again and again. The stranger forced her to walk him through the event in painstaking detail and now they haunted her when she slept.

            Walking from her makeshift room in the hull, she padded on bare feet through the ship's halls. She started exploring the vessel during these wee hours when the stranger was asleep or otherwise occupied. Wandering kept her mind off of more pressing issues, like where they were going and what they would do once they got there, so she readily went and often.

            Isis stole a glance over her shoulder and then opened a door. It was a trophy room and by smell alone she knew it had not known a living thing in a long while. Everything including the floor wore a fine layer of grey dust, nothing inside had been tended to, like most of his ship. Old and dusty, full of antique fixtures, the ship was a time capsule constructed in the old style that was more functional than aesthetically pleasing. The walls to the floors were black, the natural colour of the metal used to make them. The seats, tables and fixtures were shades of grey and black as well, hard polished and sharp. It looked and felt like a neat stone cave. It was nothing like she was used to with A'rah, there was no warmth or light anywhere. Everything was cold and dark, very much like its owner.

            He kept her like the rest of the loose objects, stacked away in the hull to be ignored, but Isis was not complaining. The stranger made her nervous. He kept odd hours, spent a great deal of time closed up in his room in quiet meditation or in deafening chaos in the gym. It was probably for the best they didn't see each other, especially considering she hadn't really gotten over him trying to kill her. Isis was the lone survivor of the HMS Whistler. Like her, every crew member found themselves host to the thing she learned to call 'hard meat'. She did not know how they came to be on the ship or the yautja that hunted them. Isis simply woke to the chaos and only she and a single yatuja would escape.

            At first, she feared her fate would be one worse than death. She awoke again to find herself in the thick of trouble, stripped naked and strapped to a metal incline. Her legs and arms were spread wide, leaving everything exposed. She twisted and strained against the shiny metal cuffs, agitating her healing wounds, until the door hissed open.

            She dared look her captor in the eyes once. He growled at her for it, seeing her as unfit to meet his gaze. Isis didn't understand that then but she knew to return her head to the floor. She could see his long green feet move closer, stepping between her open legs. Large hands, with long spindly fingers reached for her.  They slowly crept closer and Isis backed against the metal support. She didn't want him touching her but it was inevitable. There was no where for her to go and no way for her to stop him and he grabbed her neck to prove this.

            He squeezed her throat, tightening his fingers around her neck, harder and harder. So hard she felt the pressure beating from behind her eyes. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness when he released her, leaving her to cough and gag. His hand brushed against her neck again. He watched her tense but she didn't move away.  It impressed him that she was such a quick learner. Isis felt his hand slide down over her collar bones and over her breasts. She was certain he would rape her and so she closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

            But it didn't.

            He continued to massage her, rubbing up and down between her breasts, his focus specifically on that spot. He would come in every day, many times a day and stare at her down on her as he stroked the centre of her chest.

            It took a moment for her to understand his fascination. Plenty of time had passed, enough for her wounds to turn into scars, becoming dark lines across her shoulders and thighs. Curiously enough, not once, during all that time, did she hunger or thirst. Not even the slightest inkling to take a piss.  It was like every process in her body was halted. She suspected it had something to do with the colourless fluid he'd inject into her hip but then it became a question of why. The realisation frightened her.

            He kept her for the thing in her chest. She was a glorified tank for a really nasty fish.  Isis never understood what he was waiting for. Her death and its birth were in his control and yet he visited everyday with apparent expectation, looking for a new development until one day he didn't.  It made her nervous at first. Not that she enjoyed it or wanted to be felt up. It was just the anxiety that came with suddenly being without something that was an everyday, a constant. His absence filled her with an uncertainty that gnawed at her at first but then faded into a peaceful acceptance. Until the door hissed open again.

            Isis returned her head to the floor, her heart racing, wondering if it was time for harvest. Wondering if he was finally going to take his property from her chest. He moved closer and her breath was caught. The feet that moved closer weren't her captor's. They weren't even green but a dark indigo blue. Still she made no move when he reached for her, not wanting find out if this exacted the same punishment as the first for it.

            Ali'shir thought she was blind. He stepped into the room and expected to hear that piercing howl so trademark of the females of her kind. Quick scans with his machinery told him her eyes were fully functional but raised a far more interesting question. He lifted his mask, setting it to the side as he scented her.

                        "Yash'in," he grit angrily.

            The adolescent's scent was almost ingrained on the human's skin, especially across her chest. It explained why she was so at ease with him being so close. He reached for her, as he knew Yash'in had, sliding his palm over her breast. She stiffed as his hand fell on her but kept her composure, despite her racing heart. Ali'shir could feel what endeared her to young warrior jump under palm.

            Ali'shir's hands travelled down the curves of her, his nails carefully tracing the arching scars of her shoulders and the darkened lines of her hips. She was strong enough to survive the hot sting of hardmeat blood but she was not strong enough to bear this new burden. This would be her undoing. Ali'shir flicked his wrist, releasing the claws of his wrist blades. The creature deserved a better death than this and he would see to it she'd have one.

            Isis felt his hand slide away from her. He was done inspecting her now, so she expected him to leave like the other one. She was surprised when he cut away the cuffs. Even more so, when he tossed a weapon at her. He let her stand with the blade in hand before he attacked her. His arm was blur and came down with so much force, the bones in her arm broke with an audible snap. Had it been her neck, which she suspected was what he was aiming for, she would have been dead.

            Isis scrambled away on hands and knees behind the table, but the stranger thundered just behind her. He tore the damn thing off its base and reached for her again. Isis shrieked and did the only thing she could think. His ankle gave the most satisfying crunch as she kicked at it. He fell to a knee and roared in her direction as if to call her back, but she was gone, running for all she was worth down the corridor.

            Isis knew she could never hope to fight him, so she sought to out run him, sliding and crawling through tight spaces inside the ship, making him bumble in the process. Each time he fell, each time he smacked his head, his rage heightened. By the time A'rah found them he was practically foaming at the mouth to taste her blood. Isis could only guess why he eventually walked away, what it was that A'rah said exactly, but in any event she was thankful he did. It set her in the hands of the closest thing she ever knew as a sister. All eight-alien-feet of her.

            _Never would have seen that comin'_, Isis chuckled closing the trophy room door.

            Thinking of A'rah made Isis want the female's tablet. It was the only thing not auctioned off by Del'uan and that was because the female always asked Isis keep it near to her. She helped A'rah in that way, keeping the Arbitrator's itinerary in order, plotting navigation for her missions. She often thought it was A'rah's way of keeping her busy but she realised the female saw something in her she did not. Isis had a knack for it. It was almost an unsurprising discovery as Isis already knew ships inside and out as an engineer, tending to its navigation and orientation only seemed the next natural step.

            Her love for ships and flight was probably what drew her to the helm controls in these late night hours now. Bathed in the red light of the auxiliary lights, she moved around the dimly lit space, running her hands over the blinking controls, checking after her silent escort. Not that she needed to. They had not changed since they left the Shao're Clan. The ship was set in a circular path, essentially travelling round and round until he decided otherwise.

                        "Whenever the hell that is," she muttered.

            Isis took a seat in the high back chair, propping her legs onto the console nearest to her. Her eyes glanced to the passing starry landscape as she tooled with the tablet. She was careful to hide it, holding it under the tarp she used as a blanket as she tapped at the screen.

            Having the time to play with it now, Isis realised it had many uses besides as an organiser. Through public transmissions, she learned more about yautja culture and history and current affairs amongst clans.  The most interesting of the current affairs being the attack on several excursion cruisers from the Had'een clan.

            Several of its warriors had disappeared into thin air. The clan was beginning to suspect foul play but not from a rival clan. The clan accused Isis's former employers and the fastest growing threat to all alien species, United Federation. UF was blamed for a rash of mysterious alien abductions, or at least the ones who did not enter into treaty with them. Had'een was pleading for other clans to join them in the fight to get their warriors back or at the very least, deter UF from taking any more. They also were calling for something else, but Isis's reading was interrupted by a noise. Discreetly she wrapped the tablet in the tarp and twisted in the seat to face him.

            The stranger loomed over her shoulder. Isis realised early he made it a point to keep his face covered at all times, even inside the ship.  It was now, but not by his faceplate but by a knit mask with the eyes cut out. His eyes were frightening light and narrowed at her.

            Roughly he tossed her feet from the console, spinning her in the chair. "Get out!"

            Isis got up wordlessly, glaring at him as he rechecked the console settings, cursing.

            He used the translator to communicate with her but when he was angry, like now, he spoke in his native tongue, "…propping your feet on complex machinery your tiny human mind couldn't possibly comprehend."

            "I know more than you think, jackass," she muttered.

            He stopped turning dials and looked at her from the side of his eyes, "Come again?" he said, the translator clicking.

            With look alone he dared her to challenge him but Isis continued to walk the hall like she didn't hear him. She wanted to say something back but she had already said too much. All she had to do was bide her time until they landed and then she'd be home free. In the meantime, she'd have to work harder on holding her tongue.

            She reached the door, leaving the stranger to obsess over his controls when the tablet sounded, loudly. Isis kept moving, walking faster, praying he didn't hear it but he did, barking at her to halt. He thundered toward her, spinning her with one hand and ripping at the source of the noise with the other. Snatching the device, she could see his anger billowing as he roughly gripped its edges.

            Ali'shir had been looking for it for some time and it was baffling to him why she- _of all people_- would even have such a thing when there was no way she could hope to understand it. His rage was interrupted when the tablet sounded again. Ali'shir turned it over in his hands, his attention on its blinking corner which meant a message had been received.

            Isis heard him rumble with irritation as he read on. When he discarded it, leaving it to take a seat in the pilot's seat, she understood why. Leaning casually over the table, she could see there was not just one message but two, both were follow ups from jobs A'rah had accepted before her untimely demise. The first was from her contacts at Had'een. They were making sure she was en route to the rendezvous point. Since the recent disappearances were happening more close to their mainstay, they were hoping to move their base but in order to do so they would have to pilot through Reegan, a territory notorious for Scorn pirates. They needed the protection of an escort, which is where A'rah was supposed to come in. The second message was more routine, a simple live capture of a badblood. Watching the stranger assume the controls, Isis wondered if it would be so simple for him.

            In accepting her, he had assumed A'rah's debts and now had to complete these missions-but was he up to the task? His dark muscled neck was bare of trophies, his upper body untouched by scars. He wasn't terribly unfit but he was no where near the physical condition he needed to be to play arbitrator. A'rah was slender, lithe like a swimmer, her body made hard by centuries of conditioning. The male before her had a slight belly, his arms were muscled but they were hidden by flesh. Once upon a time, he worked out and trained hard, but that was definitely a while ago. Isis wondered if he was even trained to fly as he fumbled with the controls, sending the ship lurching and bucking like a novice. She knew firsthand what a Scorn warrior could do with his bare hands, she shivered to think what one could do behind the massive artillery and shields of a cruiser. And if they found themselves in the path of such fury?

            _We are so fucked…_

            Isis held tight to the wall as the ship bounded again, sputtering and shaking with a pitiful groan. He roared at the controls, kicking at the machine he just roared at her for gently propping her feet on. The idea that the device was only as good as its user was universal and the sooner he realised that, the sooner he'd discover he was going off to battle with the auto pilot still on.

            Isis thought to tell him and then decided against it. After all her tiny human mind couldn't hope to understand why one would fly with it on.

                  "We are so fucked!" she screamed, careening on her bottom toward some sparking consoles.

            Another explosion rocked the already damaged ship, knocking Isis off her feet and into the useless machinery. Sitting up, jostling with the aftershocks, she watched Ali'shir roar in defiance at the ship in front of him. He tugged at his safety belts as he gripped the controls, forcing his damaged body upright. To her astonishment he proved himself a crazy but competent pilot. They were first in the v-formation, the absolute tip of the arrow made by a fleet of vessels placed to protect the ship that followed in their smoking wake. The clanship was battered and damaged too but far better off than its escorts. Isis watched in abject horror as fire quickly and instantly gutted one ship directly next to them. She felt the vibrations from the explosion and then realised she should not have.

                        "Where are our shields?" she asked herself.

            Struggling to her feet she could plainly see on the monitors what Ali'shir was choosing to ignore. The ship was being taxed too hard. It was haemorrhaging energy from every possible outlet and it was only aggravated by Ali'shir's unrelenting use of the cannons, thrusters and shields. As leader of the formation, he was supposed to keep a speed everyone could maintain but instead he barrelled headlong into danger, leaving the other slower and antiquated ships in his dust and draining the shield of protection. His reckless charge was driving his ship head first into danger, making them easy marks. Once the energy was depleted, they would be dead in the air, sitting targets for any pirate worth his salt to easily pick off.

                        "We should fall back in formation and hug closer to the ship." She suggested, trying to appear calm.

            Ali'shir growled irritably. It angered him that even she could see he was out of practice. He tapped at the translator around his neck,

                        "I know what this ship is capable of."

            With his attention drawn away, he narrowly avoided another shell. It exploded near them and Isis had to stop herself from reaching for the controls to steer them away. Fortunately he turned in time and sailed around the mess.

            Isis let out a breath she did not know she was holding, "Perhaps things have changed since the last time you flew it." She said.

                        "Again you show how ignorant you are to our technology."

                        "So you _don't_ hear all these alarms?"

            He looked at his sides and the truth in her sarcasm dawned on him.  All the bridge's devices were flashing their warnings and sounding off. The deafening chorus drowned out everything around them which was why they were screaming at one another.

                        "The ship will hold."

                        "Can you at least slow down? Give the others a chance to kill some? Give a little time for the core to recharge?"

            He turned and looked at her then, unsure if he heard her correctly. Isis bit her lip and cursed inwardly. She was an ornament, a pet, she was not supposed to know about the inner workings of their ships.

                        "A'rah said that once," she offered in explanation, hoping to halt  his train of thought. It worked and he turned back to centre, focusing on piloting again.

                        "There is no time, human. Find somewhere to sit and shut up."

            She sat in the seat next to him, tightening the restraints around her. "There would be plenty of time if you'd rejoin the formation."

                        "…_and_ shut up." He roared.

            Isis pursed her lips and thought a moment. Whatever his bond was with A'rah it was tight. The mere mention of her name made him so snippy and rude so she dare not to say it often, but she was glad it slipped out now. Watching him become more intense and fire needlessly at an already destroyed pirate ship, she figured she was the reason why he was so reckless. He wanted to join the fallen Arbitrator.

                        "Are you trying to kill us?" she asked, fearsome of his answer.

            After a long moment of silence, Ali'shir spoke with unsettling calm, "Death in battle is honourable human. Do not fear it."

            Ali'shir slammed his foot onto the accelerator and an overwhelming chill twisted her flesh. He _did_ want to die.

            Isis whipped off her restraints and ran back to the hull. Snapping up her bag she darted through the halls until she found the hatch for the engine room. Flipping the door back, the narrow chasm spit smoke and sparks at her face. The wires and broken pieces of machinery clanged and swayed as another explosion rocked the ship. She wanted to leap right in but her mind warred with her instinct.

            _Once I'm in, I'm in_.

            The stranger would know she wasn't the absent minded pet A'rah tried to pass her off as. From that moment on, it would not be too far a stretch to think the Arbitrator had broken yet more laws and perhaps taught her more than just how to fix the ship. In their all but brief conversations, she learned that the idea of A'rah being a lawbreaker was something he simply could not stand. But he would be forced to.

            Another explosion rocked the ship and this time it was terrible enough to make the warrior roar. He was going to run them into the ground and then there would be no need for pretending because they would both be dead. Covering her eyes with her arm, Isis slid a curvy leg down onto the first step, venturing down the breaking staircase.

            Seated at the ship's helm Ali'shir rubbed his brow with the back of his hand and stilled when it came back wet. Watching his blood glisten in his palm, he felt his buried rage claw its way to the surface. Gripping the controls he blasted at the first thing that came into his view cracking it in two neat halves. He roared triumphantly, the anger over his bruised head all but disappeared as he scanned the landscape anxiously for his next kill.

            He forgot how good battle felt and how good he was at it but in that instant it all came back to him. In one big rush his body suddenly felt alive again. He was in tune with the machine and despite what the human thought it was attuned to his demands. Looking at the monitor he could see they were almost free leaving seventy percent of the unregulated territory in their wake, but he could also see the pirates had joined and created a barrier ahead. Clicking over communication with remaining ships in the fleet he warned them of the danger.

                        "Eight of us remain. Slow down and allow us to make a tighter formation. We'll all stand a better chance that way," their leader said.        Ali'shir refused, "They are tightening formation as we speak. I will go forward and do as much damage as I can. You must take the lead."

                        "That is suicide. Your ship is damaged, I doubt you have enough energy to make it at the speeds yo-"

            Ali'shir terminated the communication. A straggler to the pirate formation quickly turned at seeing him. The guns snapped in his direction but Ali'shir evaded quickly, racing straight up until the ship shook violently. Too violently. As if the machinery itself was heaving. Tapping the systems screen, he growled at the information there. Energy levels were dangerously low, in fact everything was low. He had no energy, no shields and no more acceleration but the Scorn pirate was still hot on his tail. He roared at the ship to keep going but it stalled, silencing all its laboured and grinding sounds. With a silent click, the lights flickered and suddenly he was draped in dark.

            In the eerie silence, he could hear the pirate ship screaming in the distance towards him. Sitting back in his chair, he recognised what would be his final moments with composed dignity. There would be no one to mourn him now that A'rah was gone, not his sons or his mate, so it was just as well he die like this. Flipping open his arm computer, he punched in the self destruct sequence and waited. Ali'shir closed his eyes, bracing himself for death, hoping the bomb was timed right to take the pirate with him when another soft click drew his attention.

            The auxiliary lights flickered on.

            Power was back and the ship was alive and seemingly better than ever. Aborting the destruct sequence Ali'shir readied himself at the controls again. The engines rumbled his seat and the ship screamed as the quick thinking warrior turned it in a full loop, blowing the Scorn ship to bits as he doubled back behind it. Sailing away from the charred mess, he checked the systems screen and was surprised by what he found. All the remaining resources had been pooled to the cockpit and engines. While his lights were completely out and the air ceased to circulate, the shields were fully up again and the ship moved again.

            The fact his lights were gone actually worked to his advantage as he raced toward the tightening formation. None of the ships recognised him until it was too late. Effectively caged, the rag tag barricade was fired upon by both sides and obliterated. Ali'shir returned to formation as the mother ship sailed majestically through the field of debris, parting the smouldering bits with its sweeping curves.

            The serene moment of calm overwhelmed him then. He felt he had been witness to a miracle of some sort. Even from beyond, A'rah tried to protect him. Muttering his thanks, he started to move away from the controls when the communicator beeped for his attention again. Groaning, he pressed the button. Cheering roars could be heard over the crackle of the transmission. Ali'shir was surprised when the ship's elder Zi'dan, introduced himself and lauded him for his efforts.

            The elder was all too eager to have the warrior join him in the celebration festivities as a guest of honour but Ali'shir refused. He was not up to hearing about how sorry they were to hear of the Arbitrator's passing and how thankful they were he managed to claw his way out of depression to come to their aid. Besides, he would probably have the human to deal with. He hadn't heard her nagging in a long while and thought she may have found herself under something heavy.

            _If only_, he chuckled to himself.

            Terminating communication, Ali'shir set the ship in cruise and started to move. He walked through the devastated bridge, overturning battered machines in search of the woman. While everything still smoked, the alarms were silent now, all save one that blinked quietly on the engine status console.

            Isis opened her eyes and twisted in the pile of rubble. Sitting up hurt her sides but she managed. Pushing the downed steel off her, she stumbled on bruised legs to peer up into the open hatch high above her. In all the commotion the staircase was knocked free and looking around her, she realised her only way out was to hoist herself up. Jumping from the highest pile of remains, she leapt for the edges of the open entrance. Her legs swung uselessly as she caught hold, scratching her nails against metal. She gasped as a hand grabbed hold of her. The stranger curled his giant arm and hurled her up the curtain of smoke, setting her gingerly on her feet before screaming at her.

                        "What…do-in!"

            She scrunched her nose. Was she supposed to understand that? "What the hell are you saying?"

            Ali'shir tried again but it came out a sputtered mess still. Angrily he flicked the device in his neck, he could barely understand her as well. In the mêlée, when a piece of the bridge hit him, the translator had been damaged. Unconcerned, he ripped it from his throat, confident he could do with out. He had been practicing on and off since he acquired her, anticipating a moment just like this.

                        "Why you there?" he barked pointing to the pit.

                        "I fell in?" she winced.

                        "Lie!"

            Why did that have to be one of the words he knew? With a sigh, Isis crossed her arms and confessed it was she who rerouted all the energy in the ship. Ali'shir paced angrily at that, his pride somewhat bent. He had won that fight because she, a kept oddity, had fixed the ship in time? And to think he actually thought he had the protection of the Arbitrator.

                        "Not your place!" he raged.

                        "It's not your place to decide whether or not I should die!" she countered. "If you don't like your life, that is your problem but I shouldn't have to suffer because you have issues."

                        "Do not understand Yautja." Her sighed with aggravation.

                        "I understand enough. Suicide is not honourable."

                        "Death in battle honour."

                        "Not when you intentionally set yourself up to die you ass!"

            _Ass_? Ali'shir was struggling with the conversation until that point. He knew that word well. She had just insulted him. "Stupid undisciplined bitch you know nothing. My people were charting new galaxies when yours were just learning to use their thumbs." He rattled in his native tongue.

                         "I know you did not just say that," she said, wagging her finger.

                        "I did." He challenged her, his chin in the air.

                        "If it wasn't for this 'stupid undisciplined bitch', we'd all be scattered in that territory. Me and my thumbs saved your raggedy ass, you _ass_," she shouted.

            Hearing that word again gave Ali'shir an unsettling moment of clarity. "You understand what I said," he said to himself.

            Isis rolled her eyes, _Aww__ shit…_

"…And you can speak it as well?"

            She didn't respond but she didn't need to. He knew the answer to that too. She had called him an 'ass' _twice_. Once in her language and once in Yautja. Replaying their conversation in his head he realised that she not only spoke Yautja but the language of the elders. Something that had to be taught by one who already knew it…someone like A'rah.

            Slowly he backed away from her in total disbelief. If A'rah could break such a fundamental law like teaching a foreigner the most sacred language, she could have done all the other things they accused her of, including having an affair with a mated male. She _was_ a law breaker, a badblood and disgrace.

            Isis watched him go and then kicked the hatch shut. Tossing her kit against the wall and falling to the floor she again cursed her hot temper for putting her on the spot. She was more than at his mercy now. The male's reaction told her he understood everything and was not pleased. Lying down on the floor, she closed her eyes listening to him roar and rage as he cleaned the hull. Her body itched to do something, run, scream, join him in fighting but now all that was left for her to do was wait. Wait for the moment when he offered her for execution or she was given an opportunity to escape.

            _Which ever comes first_…

**_A/N_**_: _Thanks Voodoo Queen!


End file.
